


Haunted When The Minutes Drag

by imaginarycircus



Category: Spirited
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarycircus/pseuds/imaginarycircus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regency AU. Henry escapes his gaolers at Botany Bay and is helped by a female barber surgeon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted When The Minutes Drag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flourish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flourish/gifts).



> This was to be a big novel length romance, but December did not permit that sort of writing and I really really hope you enjoy this little scrap of story. ♥
> 
> Title taken from song by Love and Rockets.

All day Suzy's patients were full of chatter about him. She tried very hard not to roll her eyes at them. She'd read the newspapers after all and didn't see the need to get all excited.

Mr. Hodges exclaimed, "They're bringing in the Scourge of Severn and Thames, Miss. Ain't you heard the news? He's dead famous! The most infamous thief in London…" and on and on with the platitudes. Suzy suspected Mr. Hodges was trying to keep his gums flapping so she couldn't see his that his right lower premolar needed to come out. It was as rotten as most of the convicts being transported into Botany Bay and one more "infamous" thief was nothing to Suzy. Each ship brought its celebrity—the Ripper of Rochester, the Newcastle Nobbler, each one named something more ridiculous than the last.

"Open wide, Mr. Hodges. That tooth has to come out." Suzy picked up her dental pelican and positioned its claw over the tooth. She noted the fear in Mr. Hodges's eyes, but she gave it no mind. Yes, dentistry could hurt a bit, but he'd feel so much better once he had that tooth out. She worked the lever against the fulcrum, which abutted Mr. Hodge's red and swollen gums and had the tooth out with one great wrench. Mr. Hodges screamed quite a lot. Suzy could always tell which ones would be screamers, or bellowers. Mostly it was the men. Women, of whom there were far fewer, tended to whimper and swoon, or stoically and silently shed a few tears, especially those who had endured labor and childbirth.

She had Mr. Hodges rinse his mouth with a solution of her own concoction that would speed healing and aid against infection and sent him on his way after he'd grudgingly paid her fee.

The local populace was used to Suzy and she was the only dentist in the colony, having learned the skill from her father. So there was little novelty for them in a working female, never mind a female employed in such a bloody and unladylike profession.

Mr. Hodges was her last patient that day, so she washed up her tools, dried them with care, and slipped each one back into its slot in the leather pouch that held them. It was nearly dark out and she lit lamp and set to washing up her arms and hands with some of the tallow soap that Mrs. Brownlow made for her.

Mrs. Brownlow was Suzy's landlord and although she didn't entirely approve of a female dentist, she approved of women having their own property and income and often gifted Suzy with soaps and candles as a show of feminine solidarity.

Suzy dropped Mr. Hodge's coins into a small pouch and locked it into her father's big old roll top desk. She opened her account ledger and entered the sum as paid in full. She occasionally let a patient owe her for services rendered, but generally expected to be paid in full. Few people dared to take advantage of Suzy though she was a woman, because Steve Darling, Suzy's beau, would come after them and he was a great meaty fellow with fists like anvils.

**

Henry saw his chance to make a run for it, having bribed one of the guards to unbolt his shackles. One of his fellow prisoners had fallen into a fit and the guards and prisoners alike were distracted enough that Henry was able to melt back into the shadows and slip away. For all his brash swagger, he knew when and how to be as unobtrusive as a mouse's shadow.

He needed to find a place to hide, a change of clothes, and possibly a way to crop his hair short. All the sketches of him showed him with shoulder length hair, and clean shaven. Short hair and a beard probably wouldn't do enough to hide his craggy features, but he had to try.

He was three streets away from the pier when the cry went up. His absence had been noted. He had no time to stop and think and he knew it would be stupid to run through the streets of a city he didn't know. So he dashed into the first shop he saw with a light on and barred the door behind him.

There was a startled woman sitting at a desk, regarding him with equal measures of fear and anger. Apart from being small, fair, and angry he gave no thought to her. He just hoped he wouldn't have to kill her.

"Put out that light," he barked at her. "Now."

He strode across the room and turned down the wick until the light spluttered and went out. He heard the rustle of skirts, and wasn't that a sound he'd missed in the last six months in which he'd been incarcerated, at trial, and then in transit to Australia.

He'd only seen her for a moment, but she'd been quite pretty now that he thought about it. He moved towards her to see if he could make out her features in the dim light, but she must have sensed him moving toward and she ran to the window. He dashed after her, ready to tackle her before she could throw up the sash and scream bloody murder. He imagined rolling about on the floor with her and wasn't that a delightful thought? He half hoped she would shriek her head off and necessitate some wrestling about.

But she just stood by the window and peered out at the commotion in the street as a group of soldiers ran by.

"They're looking for you," she said in a low, pleasant voice. She almost sounded amused. Perhaps she was a kindred spirit of some sort.

"Yeah," Henry said. He'd decided he'd charm her, but now that it came down to it all he could say was that one word. She turned and looked up at him. Her face wasn't merely pretty; it was truly lovely. They stood and stared into each other's eyes, taking each other's measure for several seconds.

There came a smart rap at the door and the woman started, but she turned and pulled open a cupboard. "Get in and crouch down at the back as best you can."

Henry did as he was told and listened, almost without breathing, while the woman unbarred the door and let the soldiers in.

"Evening, Miss Payne. One of our prisoners has done a runner. Haven't seen anyone suspicious, have you?"

"No, I heard the alarm sound and I barred my door and blew out my lamp." Miss Payne was either a first rate actress or she was actually a bit shaken, because her voice trembled.

"Very wise, miss. Give a shout if you see anything and you best keep your doors and windows locked until we run the beggar down."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Ain't they all?" The soldiers laughed and withdrew. Miss Payne barred the door behind them and called that it was safe to come out.

Henry stood and crept out of the cupboard.

"Thank you," he said. He was at a loss for anything else to say to this rather astounding woman.

**

Suzy stared up at the man, who wasn't so much handsome, as his features were arresting. She had the funny, almost giddy, feeling that she could spend a great deal of time just regarding his countenance with neither boredom, nor weariness.

"Who are you?" she said.

"Henry Mallet, at your service." He bowed low.

"I don't think I need your service, but I rather think you could use mine. I'm Suzy Payne. I'm the local dentist and please, skip the gests. I've heard them all." She closed the shutters and lit the lamp and suppressed the shiver she felt building along her spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the man's deep blue eyes. The way he'd looked at her—so frank. He'd accepted her profession without any surprise. That was a first.

He said, "Yes, I think I should cut my hair, but leave the beard. What do you think?"

She reached up and boldly touched her fingertips to his chin and turned his face to the right and to the left. She imagined that Henry had been looked at and touched by many women before and that was a depressing thought.

"Why are you helping me?" he said.

She dropped her hands to smooth her skirt and moved away from him. "I'm not quite sure." Which was mostly the truth.

That was a most unsatisfactory answer, but he needed her assistance too desperately to question it further and she was glad that he didn't.

"Sit," she commanded and pointed to a heavy wooden chair. She grasped a heavy pair of shears and began to cut away Henry's matted dark locks. The round crown of his head appeared and was nice rounded with no strange flat spots or divots. He said nothing as she clipped away his hair. She cropped the hair in his beard close to his angular jaw, willing herself not to do anything rash or brazen, though she very much wanted to.

"You need to bathe your head." She handed him a block of hard soap, a rough towel, and brought him a basin of warm water. He stripped naked to the waist and she was surprised that he was so thin, but then the trip over had probably wasted him a bit.

She watched his pale back bent over the basin and she had to hold one hand in the other to keep from caressing him. Perhaps she was going mad. Why else would she long to touch an escaped convict as he washed the vermin from his hair.

After he'd scrubbed and rinsed his head twice in fresh water she checked his scalp and pronounced him clean. She brought him one of her father's old shirts and some trousers and woolen hose. The clothes smelled slightly musty, but they were much better and cleaner than the rags he had on.

"When you're done, come into the next room and I'll find some food." Normally she had a catch as catch can meal of whatever Mrs. Brownlow had been kind enough to leave for her, but that wouldn't be enough for two, especially when one of the two was half starved. She found some cheese and bread. There was an old cask of ale in the larder, but it proved to be both flat and sour. There was a bit of brandy that Suzy used to revive patients, or to dull pain. Well, he'd have to drink plain water and like it. She wasn't giving up her brandy. It was too rare a commodity in the colony.

Mrs. Brownlow had left some cold meat and roast potatoes, more than Suzy could eat alone, thank goodness. She laid the table with such items as she had and waited for Henry, who came in looking quite different with short hair and a clipped beard. If she could find him a hat with a wide brim he'd be harder to recognize. He'd have to leave. Of course he would. He couldn't stay with her forever. Besides there was Steve.

He strode into the kitchen with the easy gait that confident men always have and maybe it was the dim light, but his eyes smoldered at her. She pushed her hair back and was appalled to find it was slipping from her neat bun. She must look like a slattern, but maybe that was the sort of woman Henry was used to—maybe he even preferred women like that. She couldn't hold back a shudder at that and the fire that burned in her gut was fueled by pure jealousy.

They sat and ate quietly. His manners were much neater than she'd expected. He didn't eat off his knife, wipe his mouth on his sleeve, or spit on the floor as Steve would have.

Suzy found she could eat very little and he remarked on it saying she was hardly eating enough "to keep body and soul together."

She pushed her plate to him and after a moment he ate her food too and the intimacy of eating off her plate stirred her strangely. Perhaps there was something of the devil about this man, setting her pulse racing and making her knees weak. She'd never felt anything like it before and wasn't entirely sure it was proper. She wasn't sure she cared, either.

She couldn't bear to let herself hope that he could stay. "Where will you go?"

He sat back in his chair, arms folded on the table. "I don't know yet. New Zealand maybe? If I can earn passage."

"I have some money—"

"No," he said and she started at his vehemence. "I couldn't take your money."

"But you were a…" She blushed.

"A thief?" He smiled. "Yes. I was. But I never stole from people who couldn't afford it."

"Like Robin Hood?"

"If you like." He gave a roguish grin that made her insides dissolve away to nothing but flame.

"When will you go?"

"As soon as I can. But—" He seemed to think better of whatever he'd been about to say and she did not press him.

She found one of her father's old coats and it was slightly too short and too wide, but not absolutely comical on him. It would have to do. She smoothed down the lapels and scolded herself for finding so many excuses to touch him.

**

Henry cupped her face, her delicate chin, in his hands and silently vowed he'd come back for her some day, if he could. Then he kissed her once, roughly and too quickly—just long enough to tell that her lips were soft and her mouth was sweet and to prove what he'd suspected, that he could never have his fill of her.

He turned and went out without another look. It was mad to be so taken with this woman. He didn't know her. He had to go. Had to. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and marched back towards the harbor and he felt the tension, the gravity of her behind him increasing with every step.


End file.
